Stand in place.

Reach your arms up into space.

Draw an opening into the sky with your fingertips,

and watch as the remnants fall like mud to the ground.

Out of that opening flies a giant black bird with trial on its back.

Its body falls piece by piece on this place like divided plaque, 

dragging its oppression beyond the scope of vision.

Your hands drop frantically below your waist. 

The opening in the sky is no longer in sight. 

Searching for the stolen bird becomes an adventure. 

Sinking bird on a wooden block in a puddle of shallow water,

its bare body is green and black with wet matted feathers.

It looks toward you nearly glaring with its deep orange eyes,

closes its eyes- red eyelids. 

The bird’s torrid body turns to ash and blows away with the wind. 

The ash blew away much like the winter blows away the fall leaves. 

There is no sign of the bird, not even the memory of it in this place. 

You reach out to a forgotten and haunted figure,

and little by little you find strength in such a place. 

A burst of moments came to a stale end before I could call it home

The moments felt like the broken wind before a short storm

The green and gray shades open the pupils of my flushed eyes

The juxtapose relieves guilt

Stagnant then the rush

There are towers of bodies hovering in a yellow light

Never laugh about things I know nothing of

Love and merriment written on a broken body part

Moments flee much like golden lines on tree patterned streets.

Where simplicity feels like a room full of trophies.

I spend my time wishing I knew of such things.

15. Daylight Symphony

Morning may blossom into a simple day. 

Steadily, water drips and drips from my tangled hair

and I taste the water that surrounds my mouth as I wake from a nightmare.

Smile peaks like the lonely moon from blackened clouds in early November. 

From my drowning dreams I take a double gasp.

The breaths hardly fill my lungs, a diaphragm that fails to contract.

Neither breaths free my trapped limbs, so heavy, so deep and subtle in their place

two lips and a broken stem.

Dearest man that sings in the distance- friend-no-man-not there-not real?

In this reverie he slips back and forth from what I need to what I hate.

I have forgotten what these shadows mean to you dear broken man. 

Distraction and relief from this pester glue, they drift through your thoughts- but never reveal true.

Simply dream of laughter without that superficial smile-

Dream sequence symphony and the bold and ticking metronome wails-

featherly upon my ears- and old memory keeps to itself. 

Carry me home I say! Don’t leave me alone. 

Wait! Didn’t I say there was happiness?

Late is the hour for humorous.

Steal those limbs from the bed and bleed the shadows from thought.

Quickly bury the broken stem and wish for it to never break again.

Placidly sleeping, never slipping, always holding on.

In  any such motion caught- I bid you

goodnight adventurous plot

and good morning daylight I’ve wrought.

Pardon me if I have just a bit on my mind. It seems as though life has a crazy way of fighting for everything to go wrong. Tricking a person into thinking that they want one thing more than anything in the world, but then alas, it happens, you find that all that you ever wanted couldn’t be more of a disappointment if it tried. Not to say that I’ve personally gotten everything I have ever wanted, but when you are in the store trying that one pair of shoes on, it seems as though you might just get them…does this analogy not make any sense? (I haven’t written in a while, so excuse my lack of flow, and my complete disregard of going over this a bunch of times) Let me further explain my meaning, with the shoes in the shoe store. Say you really want this one pair of shoes- red ones maybe, with these enormous heels that make you want to walk along the sidewalk and squash ants with them-anyway, you go to the store, the really snobby one, and somehow you get the opportunity to try them on…you put them on your feet and stand up tall. You then look in the mirror and realize you have enormous cankles. though this is probably not a surprise or anything, you just hoped that the stars would align and your big freaking feet would look remotely decent in these amazing shoes. That is not all folks! You then must turn to the sales person and tell them you cant take them. The sales person then tries to convince you that you should, saying how lovely you look in them, probably another female who does not have cankles, and is wearing some version of strappy fancy shoes with heals thinner than Barbie’s left arm, as she floats along her life, most likely feeling pity for you or thanking God for her blessed un-cankled lower limbs…or both…so you think WTF, you are insane and I just want to leave now…NOW! So you are more upset than a wasp that just had a broom chucked at it…and your first instinct is to ATTACK! Ok…back to the point…the analogy is quite relevant, although I may have gone a bit out of bounds…my point is…why do we chose to want things, when we honestly know better? The shoe may fit, but it really doesn’t. There is always someone who would fit it better than you, and deserves it more than you, and honestly belongs in that shoe…they would wear it to all the right places, store them in a giant closet, so on and so forth. Honestly, I am not a shoe person„,I own one pair of red shoes. I never wear them. So…what now? This really isn’t about freaking shoes. I could care less. This is about flaw. What people want. What people say they want, but for some reason, don’t do it, or don’t find the satisfaction they were looking for. You want to know why? We are flawed! We can’t seem to see past ourselves…the shoes fit…but didn’t fit. Why don’t they fit? They don’t fit because of fear. Fear of actually facing ourselves and fixing the flaws- or at least accepting them and moving on to bigger and better parts of ourselves. Who knows! That sales lady could have actually just recently lost a bagillion pounds and honestly wants to help, and honestly thinks that the shoes look good. Something to work on: Stop paralyzing ourselves, buy the stupid shoes…or buy a floor length dress that shows off more of that top half! To anyone though„,not just women…I am a woman, so I am biased, but seriously…ANYONE…don’t paralyze yourself…don’t get frustrated…take a breath and take action. P.S. I shall be taking my own advice…wish me luck!

14.)  Bring Sally Up Bring Sally Down

There is a concave lacuna in my chest.

When I breathe in my skin becomes blotchy;

Out, water seeps from my body and surrounds me.

When I place my fingertips in the lacuna I feel deep beating in my arms.

It tingles like an awareness of breathing.

The cherry blossoms bloom, indeed they do.

How they shower and yearn for affection.

As the pink is pulled from their branches in the respiring wind,

I remember the shallow feeling of the passionate bereavement.

The tiger lilies race through my baron mind, how smell triggers memories.

The petals fall and the powder shakes onto my skin.

My lipstick cracks like peeling paint on canvas.

I can’t breathe anymore and the morsels of color are almost gone.  

13.) What happens to the melting mind?

There he is, the giant man with three eyes.

He walks like a china doll in midwinter—

Speaks like a man whose eyes turn bloodshot after a workday—

There he walks away.

Don’t be afraid of the valley he says;

the valley that hides fate in the arms of Grim Reaper;

the personification of death like a spotlight on a dark wall.

I’ve been lost in the sea, lost in the sea.

Floating, thinking of his face and his many voices and charms;

I make out his figure in the scope of stars which attempt to be connected.

The fate of him. The fate of she.

I want to float away.

Fool I am while fate is forgetful.

The parade of sound I’ve obsessed over keeps my head warm.

The memory of silence and beauty from the eyes wrinkles my hands.

I’m not really at sea. It’s just a pool.

YAY!